


Blur

by PainfulStitches17



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, this is a vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PainfulStitches17/pseuds/PainfulStitches17
Summary: Mute is struggling._______I decided to post this separately instead of putting in the Lonely Thoughts collection seeing the rating and warning.
Relationships: Mark "Mute" Chandar/James "Smoke" Porter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Blur

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING : mentions of self harm, physical abuse, panic attack,...
> 
> This is pretty raw, short and probably not my best work but it's something.  
> Also I had to chose two people to hurt and it fell on them, sorry 🙃

Hands reaching and touching hot skin, fingertips running along defined muscles and bones, nails scratching down his chest. It wasn't the first time Mark was lying on his back, legs spread wide open as the one above him was almost playing with his very flesh, molding him like clay. He was certain just a few moments ago that everything had been going alright, why was he scared now ? Something felt utterly wrong, it wasn't the first time he had found himself in a situation like this, the silhouette and face in front of him so familiar yet so distant and cold. What were they doing ?

Each touch made him one step closer to lightheadedness, from which emotion he wasn't sure. A breath on his neck, lips kissing, teeth pulling on his suntanned skin. Was he supposed to feel pleasure or pain ? He felt out of time, the room shifting and morphing in front of his eyes, places he's been to before, places he'd rather forget.

"You're so beautiful."

No he's not, he's soiled, dirty, marked with the upmost disgusting filth he could imagine. It was getting hard to focus, his face buried in the other's hair. He can recognize the scent but how could he be so certain when everything around him screams danger ? Was he really as safe as he thought he was ?  _ No _ , it didn't feel like it, didn't feel right, it should but it doesn't. It's going a step further now, lips on lips which he breaks with disgust after a while.

"You're being shy again ?"

They laugh and he can't understand what's so funny. He needs to keep going, shake it off, keep his facade, he has to or else… or else what ? It'll happen again and again, won't it ? The sound of skin against skin, the hand grasping his hair, the teeth sunk into his collarbone. He doesn't want that, he doesn't want it anymore. He doesn't want the feeling deep inside him, relentless, he doesn't want the ache and the bruises, fists hitting his every bones, wrists sore from the tight grip they've got on them. He doesn't want the words being said and he doesn't want the smiles he saw on that face. _He's doubting what's real and what's not_ , he tries to move, break free but he's scared, oh so scared. The movements become rougher, a tongue running up his neck and a hand pushing his thigh higher, he can't help but find it nauseating.

"You feel so good."

But he doesn't feel that way and it seems like he never will. He feels desperate, desperate to make it stop. Brown eyes pierce right through his soul, the features shifting and rearranging into the most repulsing faces he could think of, seeing them is enough to drive him over the edge, a nightmare come true. He can feel his eyes swell up as the lump in his throat painfully rises and they must've picked up on it because it's  _ finally over _ .

"Shhh, don't cry."

It's déjà vu, words he's heard before and that he'll hear again, he's sure of it. He's almost choking on his tears now, trembling so hard he wonders how he even manages to push away the blurry face that's getting close to his. He's being grabbed, the grip around his arms tightening and he just wants to give up but he can't, fighting is what his body has decided to do, adrenaline kicking in and _he won't let it go this time, please, not this time_. He wants to shout but no words come out, being replaced by needy gasps instead. The coarse voice above becomes louder the longer he tries to retaliate and all he wants now is to flee, wash himself until his body goes numb, not the first time, not the last. He's reaching for himself but they're stopping him, he could just scratch the filth off, every centimeters of skin red and bleeding.

"I won't let you do that again."

He's being pinned down and he's certain his heart is going to explode,  _ the man _ lying on top of him, whispering into his ear as he's letting out soft whines.

They just stay there for what feels like an eternity in Mute's mind, thoughts cycling between distractions, memories and the words being said to him, fingers gently going through his hair. He's managed to calm down, eyes burning and exhausted.

"It's just you and me here Mark, I'm sorry, you're safe."

James. It was just James.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading 💛
> 
> This was pretty difficult to write and I wasn't sure if I was going to post it but I didn't want it to go to "waste" taking dust in my drive, so here it is.


End file.
